Sunday, February 02, 2014

if you see something, say something--a sermon for 2 February 2014

Now when Jesus learned that the Pharisees had
heard, ‘Jesus is making and baptizing more disciples than John’— although it
was not Jesus himself but his disciples who baptized— he left Judea and started
back to Galilee. But he had to go through Samaria. So he came to a Samaritan
city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son
Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was
sitting by the well. It was about noon.

A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and
Jesus said to her, ‘Give me a drink’. (His disciples had gone to the city to
buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, ‘How is it that you, a Jew, ask a
drink of me, a woman of Samaria?’ (Jews do not share things in common with
Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God, and who it is
that is saying to you, “Give me a drink”, you would have asked him, and he
would have given you living water.’ The woman said to him, ‘Sir, you have no
bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you
greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and
his flocks drank from it?’ Jesus said to her, ‘Everyone who drinks of this
water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give
them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a
spring of water gushing up to eternal life.’ The woman said to him, ‘Sir, give
me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to
draw water.’

Jesus said to her, ‘Go, call your
husband, and come back.’ The woman answered him, ‘I have no husband.’ Jesus
said to her, ‘You are right in saying, “I have no husband”; for you have had
five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said
is true!’ The woman said to him, ‘Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our
ancestors worshipped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people
must worship is in Jerusalem.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, believe me, the hour
is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in
Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for
salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the
true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father
seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him
must worship in spirit and truth.’ The woman said to him, ‘I know that Messiah
is coming’ (who is called Christ). ‘When he comes, he will proclaim all things
to us.’ Jesus said to her, ‘I am he, the one who is speaking to you.’

Just then his disciples came. They were
astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, ‘What do you
want?’ or, ‘Why are you speaking with her?’ Then the woman left her water-jar
and went back to the city. She said to the people, ‘Come and see a man who told
me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?’ They left
the city and were on their way to him.

Meanwhile the disciples were urging him,
‘Rabbi, eat something.’ But he said to them, ‘I have food to eat that you do
not know about.’ So the disciples said to one another, ‘Surely no one has
brought him something to eat?’ Jesus said to them, ‘My food is to do the will
of him who sent me and to complete his work. Do you not say, “Four months more,
then comes the harvest”? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the
fields are ripe for harvesting. The reaper is already receiving wages and is
gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice
together. For here the saying holds true, “One sows and another reaps.” I sent
you to reap that for which you did not labour. Others have laboured, and you
have entered into their labour.’

Many Samaritans from that city believed
in him because of the woman’s testimony, ‘He told me everything I have ever
done.’ So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them;
and he stayed there for two days. And many more believed because of his word.
They said to the woman, ‘It is no longer because of what you said that we
believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the
Saviour of the world.’

iconographers at work--Ayman is the seated man on the right.

Pentecost icon in progress

Eight years ago around this time, I left my classroom at the
Coptic Cathedral in Cairo and went upstairs to a room I’d heard about but never
seen: the icon workshop. The windows were open though it was chilly outside,
and half a dozen people were scattered around tables, huddled over panels with
varying states of images drawn or painted on them. In this room, artists
carried on a centuries-old tradition of putting theology into image. Contrary
to popular protestant belief, icons are not objects of worship, they are
windows to the divine. When we look at an icon, it is supposed to direct our
attention to God, and to open a new avenue for us to experience God’s presence
and story. The artists who make icons are not called painters, they are called iconographers—literally
icon writers. They write God’s story
into every image. At the Coptic Orthodox icon workshop, they begin with a
pencil drawing, then add colored paint, and then finally they painstakingly
apply tiny pieces of gold leaf until the story shimmers off the panel.

The most common icons are of course of Jesus by himself,
often holding a scroll or a book. The holy family is also a common scene, and
in Egypt, an especially popular image is of the flight to Egypt, complete with
pyramids and palm trees in the background. Lots of other stories also make
great icons, of course: the crucifixion, Pentecost, Old Testament prophets.

When I went into the workshop, I was hoping to get a
traditional Coptic icon of a woman other than Mary. As I looked at the pieces
in their varied states of work, and flipped through the book of traditional
images, I started to despair a bit. Not a single woman to be found, besides the
Virgin. But then, on the next to last page of the book, I happened upon an icon
depicting this story, of the Samaritan woman at the well. I immediately knew it
was perfect—what better image for the office of a soon-to-be-preacher than that
of the first female preacher of the gospel? When I told Ayman, whom I had
commissioned to write my icon, what I wanted, he hesitated and then asked why I
would want an icon of a woman who was a sinner?

My Arabic was not good enough to explain to him that nowhere
in the story does it say she was a sinner. But it was good enough to explain
that I wanted an icon of the woman who first told people the good news of Jesus
and brought people to see him for
themselves. He was unconvinced, but he took the commission, and a few
months later I went upstairs after class once again, to pick up my shiny new
icon. Ever since, I have looked at it every day and prayed for the courage to
go out and meet Jesus, to come back and tell what I have seen, and to encourage
others to go out and meet him themselves.

The idea that she was a horrible sinner, or a prostitute, or
in some way an outcast shamed by her community, persists even though it is not
written in the text. In fact, this is one of the few stories where there is no
mention of sin or forgiveness at all. Instead we have here a woman who continually
pushes on Jesus’ answers, asking more and more questions, refusing to go away
until she understands. Here we have a woman who is so excited by the encounter
she has had that she leaves her jar by the well when she runs back to town.
Here we have a woman whose story is so compelling that her whole town comes out
to the well to see for themselves. Here we have a woman who refuses to keep her
God-moment to herself.

There’s no juicy sex scandal in this story, the way John
writes it. When Jesus says she’s had five husbands, that does not imply that
she’s been unfaithful—women did not have the right to leave a husband, nor any
standing in the community without a man to protect and provide for them.
Instead it implies that her husbands have divorced her or died, and now she
lives with another male family member who offers her protection from being used
yet again.

The real scandal in this story is actually much simpler. But
it’s only obvious if we think about last week’s reading too. Last week we heard
the story of Nicodemus, a Pharisee—which means he was a legal expert and a
leader in the religious community. Nicodemus comes to see Jesus at midnight,
under cover of darkness. In the course of their conversation, Nicodemus never
understands, and his questions lead him deeper into his own circles of
confusion. He goes away disappointed, with the words of Jesus following him:
“this is the judgment, that the light was coming into the world and the people
preferred darkness.” Now here, in the very next chapter, is a woman who meets
Jesus at noon, the lightest point of the day. In her conversation with Jesus,
she probes a little deeper until she understands, and then she immediately goes
away to tell the others to “come and see.”

Nicodemus the leader comes at night and goes away in the
darkness. The foreign woman comes at high noon and brings others into the
light. Here is the real scandal—that the woman (a woman!) who represents all that is hated in Jewish culture is the
one who lives in the light and brings others to see.

But, just as in our culture today, while scandal sells, it
is not the whole point of this story. There are at least two other pieces of
this gospel puzzle.

One piece is this: she asks questions, and keeps asking—and
she really listens to Jesus’ responses. I don’t know about you, but I’m often
more like Nicodemus—I ask God my question and then wait to hear the answer I
want. But this Samaritan woman asks, and then follows up, and keeps in the
conversation, even when surely either she or Jesus must have wanted to just
roll their eyes and give up…and through this conversation she ends up knowing
Jesus for who he really is, just as he knows her for who she really is. What an
amazing promise for the rest of us who have lots of questions!

The second piece is the crucial one: The woman’s encounter
with Jesus doesn’t end at the well. Sure, she could have kept coming back,
hoping to find him here again, maybe she’d sing the same song as she walked, or
say the same words when she got there, or sit in the same spot every week, all
the while enjoying the memory of the previous encounter while not wanting to
push her faith on others. But she runs off and tells everyone she sees that she
has met a man who just might be the Messiah.

Notice that she doesn’t say “I’ve found the answer to where
we should worship” even though that was the question that had kept Jews and
Samaritans apart for centuries. She doesn’t say “I met a nice young man who
seems to know a lot about his field of study.” She doesn’t say “I’ve figured it
out, listen to me.” No arrogance or even certainty here. Instead she says “I
encountered someone…I think he’s the Messiah…come and see.”

She offers her experience, and invites others to have an
experience.

That is the woman I want to be. She loves to tell the story,
to anyone who will listen. Hopefully it is the kind of disciple you want to be
as well. This is the core of the scary words “evangelism” and “testimony”—If
you see something, say something. When we see the movement of the Spirit, say
so. When we sense the presence of God, describe the moment. When we see Jesus
in the face of another, share the story. Not to give an answer, not to tell
someone they are going to hell, not to insist that everyone see or feel or
understand the way we do, but to invite them to look for themselves, to ask for
themselves, to know and be known for themselves. Evangelism and Testimony mean
simply to say “Here’s what I have seen. Will you come and see too?”

Take a moment to think about the most recent time you have
experienced God’s presence, or seen Jesus, or felt the movement of the Spirit.

Now that you have that moment in your mind, take just a
moment and turn to someone seated near you and tell them about it, briefly.

And now that you’ve practiced, be on the lookout this week
for a chance to tell that experience to someone else, and invite them to come
and see what God can do.

I love so much of this too! Thanks for the precious insights. I particularly resonated with the way you dealt with the 'noontime" visit of the woman to the well in contrast to Nicodemus. The only reluctance I have about it is this-- "the woman (a woman!) who represents all that is hated in Jewish culture..." Is this true? I think it isn't. Maybe it reflects an old sense that Judaism was a repressive religion? Maybe needs reexamining.

This is REALLY GOOD. I like the contrast with Nicodemus and I like the talking to one another at the end. I might do that this week.

Last week at a session retreat we had them pair off and talk for 30 minutes. At least 1/3 of the people cried and all of them found a connection they didn't know they had. Heidi and I are wanting to move our congregation into telling its own story/stories. I think this might be a seed planter.

Thanks.

PS I been thinking about Nicodemus leaving disappointed and The Rich Young Ruler leaving disappointed. Not sure where that's connected but it seems to be in my brain.

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